


our overlapping (separated) love story

by gloomly



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Coming of Age, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-06 03:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16823809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloomly/pseuds/gloomly
Summary: “Stop trying to grow up so fast.”You shouldn’t have kissed me.“I care about you like a sister.”I don’t like you.It’s clear and calculated and it pierces right through Hyejin’s heart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be for [mamamoo rarepair ficfest...](https://mamamoo-fic.tumblr.com/) however i obviously did not do such a good job at finishing this and the ficfest has been done for a while now...the truth is that i wrote this without much thoughts (like i always do its really a problem) and when i began to re-read it the fic wasn't really anything i wanted it to be...so i began to rewrite it lol and here we are now. 
> 
> this fic really has started to consume my ENTIRE life so i decided to just begin to post it as i re-write/write it. im actually really sorry this has taken so much time and like i dont think its fair that i would just let it get posted with the others when everyone finished theirs on the deadline so im just going to post it here and maybe whoever prompted this or whoever was reading the rarepair fics finds it ;;
> 
> the prompt was:
> 
> _Moonbyul treats Hyejin like a baby/younger sister but Hyejin wishes Byul would see her as something more_
> 
> This will have multiple parts...and tags will be added as i post them. rating is for later in the fic btw

The doorbell rings, breaking the quiet of the summer afternoon.

Hyejin lifts her head just a bit from where it’s resting on the couch’s armrest. With the curtains drawn close, the living room is dark, washed away with the bluish light of the television playing an old Japanese movie. Hyejin rest her head back, eyes turning back to the bar scene on screen.

She hears the footsteps of her sister coming down the stairs, heavy and hurried.

“Why didn’t you open the door,” Sujeong stops in her tracks enough to look at her from the doorway, arms crossing over her chest.

Hyejin shrugs, eyes flickering to her and then back to the screen, “too lazy.”

Sujeong shakes her head at that, the doorbell rings again and Sujeong moves away, towards the door. 

Hyejin half listens as the door opens, hears the muffled voice of their visitor, deep and somehow familiar. The voice lingers in the back of her mind, nagging, wanting to be remembered. She lets it go, slumps back on the couch, reading the subtitles lagging behind the dialogue.

The front door closes, Sujeong’s laugh rings playfully. 

Her eyes widen when she hears the other laugh. Deep and low. Hyejin remembers hearing this laugh when Sujeong was still in high school, running up to her room, giggling about boys with _her_.

She sits up just as _Moon Byulyi_ appears at the doorway.

Her hair is shorter than it was when she was in high school. Hyejin looks at her wide eyed, movie transitioning to a scene on a deserted street, sun washing down on the lone figure. 

Byulyi turns to look at her, pushing back the bangs falling over her face, eyes searching before she smiles, cheekbones pushing up with it.

“Hyejin-ah,” she says, voice light, easy “on summer break?”

Hyejin doesn’t answer. Mouth opened a bit in disbelief. 

It’s been four years.

Sujeong pushes past the living room door, grabbing a cushion from the couch and throwing it at Hyejin’s face.

“Get out,” she says, sitting on the empty part of the couch, reaching for the tv control, “Byulyi-ah and I are taking over.”

Byulyi laughs at that, sticking her hands into the pocket of her slacks, eyes still on Hyejin before Sujeong nudges at her again, pushing until Hyejin finally gets up.

Hyejin pulls her shorts down her thighs, suddenly overly aware at how shabby and worn out she looks. She remembers the holes eating away at the hem of her threadbare shirt, the fading color of her ill fitting shorts. 

She feels her cheeks heat up, hands reaching up to smooth out her unruly hair. 

“I’ll be in my room,” she mumbles as she ducks her head, body tensing when she passes by Byulyi, looks at her, eyes, kind, “it was nice seeing you again Hyejin-ah,” she says softly, walking towards the now empty couch.

Hyejin nods, mouth unable to form words, just walks quickly down the narrow hallway and into her room.

She sits on Sujeong’s bed for a couple of minutes, silent, thinking, after the door shuts behind her. 

Hyejin had felt bad when Sujeong had offered her bed, insisting that her little sister couldn’t sleep on the couch. Always so willing to give to Hyejin even what she couldn’t afford to give. She had been pushy, and Hyejin had relented to keep from arguing and dragging her parents into such a small disagreement. 

It all goes quiet, she sighs and lets herself fall back onto her pillows, stretching out her legs, her knees cracking before she goes limp.

Hyejin takes a deep breath, her hand rising to press against her chest, heat resurging up her neck when she feels how fast her heart is beating. 

-

_Hyejin had been in middle school when she had first met Byulyi. The fall weather had began to bleed into shorter days, faster sunsets, chilling breezes._

_Street lights flickering on, people starting to walk back from work._

_Hyejin had walked, arm in arm with Wheein, laughing at some silly story Wheein was telling her, animated._

_She hadn’t really expected anything different, giggles still bubbling even after parting with Wheein, hands carefully unlocking the front door._

_She had peeled off her shoes, clearing her throat._

_“I’m home,” she had called, eyes falling on the extra pair of shoes lined neatly next to Sujeong’s, the jacket hanging from the coat rack._

_She was used to Sujeong brining in friends, study partners, classmates. Hyejin stepped into the living room, untucking her uniform shirt from her skirt._

_“Hey,” she said, overly loud, edging on annoying._

_She had looked up and Hyejin had felt...stupid._

_The girl sitting on their couch wasn’t her sister. She looked up at Hyejin’s exclamation, thin lips had already began forming into a smile._

_“Hi,” the other girl said, turning to look at her fully, “you must be Sujeong’s little sister._

_Hyejin stared at her for a second, cheeks scalding in embarrassment._

_“I’m Moon Byulyi.”_

_Hyejin had forgotten whatever she was going to say, any teasing she had thought of._

_She bowed slowly, “I’m Ahn Hyejin,” she said, voice quiet, “I’ll go look for Sujeong.”_

_Byulyi smiled at her again, pointing to the ceiling, “she’s in the kitchen.”_

-

She hadn’t gone to look for her. 

Hyejin had hid in her room, much like she was doing now.

It’s different now, obviously after five years.

Her long black hair cut off, feathery layers of a short bob. The lowlights of the living room bouncing off the silver color of her hair. 

Now in the summer her skin had grown just a bit golden, a mere dusting that Hyejin would have not noticed if it were not for the tell tale tickling memory of Byulyi’s porcelain white skin that winter many years ago.

The smile she had given Hyejin was the same as before, soft, muted.

She can still hear their conversation from the living room, muffled sounds, the floating sounds of laughter, the faraway sound of the television fading in between.

Her room is hot, she lays in Sujeong’s bed, sprawl out , boneless. Sweat runs down her temple, falling and gathering on her pillow case.

She makes a face of distaste, going to wipe down the trail left down her cheek.

Her mind wanders, tries to figure out what’s different. She feels the same admiration. Hyejin in middle school had been intrigued, had formed a half completed veneration. Byulyi had been so cool, so chic and pretty. With her black hair seeping out of the darkest of inks, skin as soft, as blinding as the translucent, sugary flesh of a peach. Hyejin wanted to be like her, to be just like Byulyi.

Her heart stammers in her chest and Hyejin convinces herself it’s normal. 

She falls under the heaviness of a summer afternoon, eyelashes fluttering as her eyes begin to fall. She curls into herself and falls asleep in the warm July air.

When she wakes up the room is darker, the sun down, dusk hitting softly over the city. Hyejin sits up, running a hand through her sweaty hair, grimacing at the slick feeling of it. Her mouth feels like it’s been filled with cotton, dry and heavy. She blinks stupidly at nothing, sits, disoriented, staring at the corner of her bed.

There’s a knock on her door, sharp raps, her eyes shift to it.

“Come eat,” her sister says, voice loud.

“Alright,” Hyejin calls back, stretching her arms over her head, smiling, pleased, when she hears the pop of her bones. She gets up easily enough, has enough sense to push her hair back into a low ponytail.

Light floods into her room, rushing in and Hyejin squints at the brightness of it, still not used to it, still half asleep.

She walks down the hallway slowly, stops at the edge when she hears the talking again, the low conversations.

“You didn’t have to make so much food,” Byulyi says, voice kind.

She hears Sujeong snort, the clink of bowls placed on hardwood, “This isn’t for you,” she says, voice teasing, “Hyejin is a big eater, mom and dad sent over so much food.”

This bothers Hyejin for some reason. She knows it’s true, it’s not like Sujeong is making up unflattering things about her. But. Still. It rubs her the wrong way. She’s clearly feeling embarrassed, and she doesn’t like it.

She takes the final steps into the kitchen, unsure of what expression she’s making. But it must be ok, because Sujeong motions for her, pats the seat next to hers.

“Byulyi is staying for dinner,” she says as if Hyejin hasn’t seen the other girl right across from them, obviously not going anywhere.

“Ok,” she mumbles, tilting her chin into her chest, waiting for whatever else her sister is going to point out.

“Do you go to school here?” Byulyi asks, ripping Hyejin’s stare right to her.

“She’s staying here for the summer,” Sujeong answers for her, “mom let her come for a little vacation.”

She rolls her eyes but smiles at Hyejin, who finally opens her mouth, talking quietly. 

“I’ll go back to Jeonju for school,” she says, drawing her knees closer to her chest, more or less speaking into the skin of her knee.

“Hyejinnie always gets what she wants,” Sujeong says with a laugh, “as soon as she mentioned spending the summer in the city mom was already pushing her out the door and into my arms.”

Why is Sujeong making her appear so...annoying, _bothersome_? And why is it bothering her so much?

Hyejin doesn’t respond to that, choosing to instead stare at the bowls and dishes of food on the table.

“Oh,” Sujeong says after a couple of minutes of talking, “we should eat and talk.”

She pushes a bowl of rice towards Byulyi. Hyejin sighs to herself, glad she can finally eat and have an excuse not to talk. 

She’s pushing side dishes into her own plate when Byulyi calls for her.

“Hyejin-ah,” she says, holding the rice bowl towards her, “here.”

She takes it, without making eye contact. She’s irritated and annoyed but she knows she can’t just leave without Sujeong making a big deal out if it.

In her haste, they clumsily brush hands, Hyejin’s fingertips grazing over the back of Byulyi’s knuckles. She pulls back quickly, the bowl quivers in her grip. Nervous, her eyes look determinedly at her dish as she shovels rice quickly, covering her vegetables and meat.

Sujeong grabs for the bowl next, seemingly unaware of the storm forming inside Hyejin, instead making light conversation, laughing along to whatever story she’s telling. Hyejin eats quickly, barely tastes the food as she swallows. She keeps her head down, getting up as soon as the last bit of rice is gone.

“Thanks,” she says, quiet, “I’m going to bed.”

She walks way too fast up the stairs, in her haste the bedroom door slams behind her. It’s loud and she knows the other two have heard her but she doesn’t care.

Her room is a bit cooler now that the sun has set fully. She lays in the bed again and drifts off to sleep.

-

Byulyi is in their living room the next morning. The morning air is chilly, breezing through the open windows.

“Good morning, Hyejin-ah,” Byulyi says as she looks up from her phone, locking it absentmindedly. 

“Morning,” she murmurs, ducking out of the living room and into the kitchen. 

The morning is quiet, the news on the television. Hyejin thinks maybe she should be questioning why Byulyi is there but a part of her has the feeling it’ll be more of constant than a one off.

She pulls out a bowl from a cupboard, a bag of cereal, the half full container of milk from the refrigerator. 

Hyejin leans on the counter, chews slowly, unthinking. The front door opens, she hears it close again and it’s not long before Sujeong is in the kitchen with her.

“You’re up,” she says, putting bags of groceries on the counter space, “are you going somewhere?” she motions to the bowl of cereal in front of Hyejin.

“Just hungry,” she shrugs, shoving another spoonful in her mouth, “didn’t wanna wait.”

Sujeong reaches over to ruffle her hair, clearly not upset about her attitude last night, probably didn’t even realize something was wrong. Hyejin breathes easier.

“Well I’ll make some hot food if you want some,” Sujeong reaches over for the bags, takes out the fresh produce in their see through bags.

“Ok,” Hyejin answers cutely, around a mouthful of corn and milk.

“Disgusting,” Sujeong wrinkles her nose, pushing Hyejin’s face away from her with a firm shove to her cheek.

Hyejin laughs, grabbing her bowl and walking out of the kitchen.

She passes by the living room, considers going back to the her room and eating alone. But the cool breeze from the outside is pleasant. She hovers enough that Byulyi looks up to meet her gaze. Hyejin holds on tighter to the bowl, the edge digging into the inside of her palm. It would be weird to leave now, now that she’s been seen and she’s more or less stayed. Hyejin takes small steps into the living room, sitting on the opposite side of the couch, eyes focused on the news headlines being discussed on the television.

She’s not sure if Byulyi is looking at her, but she feels hyper aware and self-conscious. She hasn’t lifted her spoon once and she knows her cereal has gone past the point of soggy that she still finds enjoyable.

“When are you going back for school?” Byulyi asks, clearly trying to make things less uncomfortable.

Hyejin turns slightly to look at the older girl, balancing the bowl on her raised knee. 

“In a week,” she says, answers simply, “school is almost starting.”

Hyejin is only staying long enough to spend her birthday with Sujeong. School starts a bit after that, and she’s sure her mother and father would like to see her before that.

Byulyi nods, “are you excited about going back?”

Hyejin really isn’t. Most of the time she finds ways to get out of school, takes trips back here, occasionally goes to an trainee audition. School hasn’t really ever held her interest long enough.

“Yeah,” she says instead, shrugging, “I’ll see my friends again.”

-

Wheein calls her when she goes back to her room, the other girl had gone on a vacation trip with her mother and grandma.

 _Hi_ she says, voice faraway, _what’s going on?_

Hyejin lays on her bed, putting her phone tight to her ear.

“Nothing,” she says, pauses, “just Sujeong has her friend over.”

Wheein hums into the phone, clearly distracted.

 _Friend?_ Wheein asks after a second.

“Yeah,” Hyejin picks up the phone, brings it closer to her mouth, “do you remember Moon Byulyi?”

There’s a small pause, _long black hair?_

“Yeah,” Hyejin sighs, “except she doesn’t really have long or black hair anymore.

 _She was nice_ , Wheein offers.

“She still is,” Hyejin corrects. 

It’s these words that make her think. 

It’s been very little, limited interactions between her and Byulyi. Even more so than when she was still in middle school. And in these short, superficial moments, Byulyi has been kind. Asking polite questions, smiling at her.

When she was younger she had looked up to her, had liked her kind smile, her easy going attitude. Now Byulyi is not much different. But for some reason it’s her that is reacting so hostile.

She shakes her head, catches the end of Wheein’s drawling description of her grandmother’s house.

 _It’s just right by the beach_ , Wheein says dreamily, _we’re going there after lunch._

Hyejin hums when Wheein pauses, asks questions about what she’s been doing, when she’s coming back.

 _Probably the day after you_ , Wheein answers, _we’ll have a couple of days together._

Hyejin smiles to herself at that, realize how much she’s missed her friend. Spending time in the city has been fun, but it’s lost its shine the more Hyejin stays at home, too apathetic to go into the crowded streets on her own.

“It’s our last year,” Hyejin says, a reaffirmation more to herself than the conversation she’s having with Wheein.

 _Yeah_ , Wheein answers anyways, voice crackling with static, _last chance before everything changes._

Hyejin lets that fall between them. She hears the sound of Sujeong and Byulyi getting up, picking up dishes, cleaning up.

They’ll probably go out somewhere after this. Hyejin knows she’ll say no when they ask her if she wants to come and Sujeong won’t press in too much, letting her be.

She hangs up minutes later, waiting for the footsteps that should be coming towards her, right outside her door. 

They eventually come, muffled by the carpet, slow steady steps, echoing loudly as they make their abrupt stop at the other side of the bedroom door.

Hyejin holds her breath to hear the sharp rapping against the wooden door, ringing loudly. Hyejin waits for the door to open either way, as Sujeong tends to push through. But nothing happens for a while and then there’s another sharp round of knocks.

“Come in?” she asks out loud, watching as the door knob turns slowly, blinking stupidly when Byulyi’s head appears from the other side.

“Hi,” she says, already smiling, “Sujeong and I are going to go shop around,” she leans a little closer, “you should come!”

She’s prepared to decline, spend another day watching old movies on the living room couch, make food from leftovers in the refrigerator, sleep. Byulyi keeps looking at her, Hyejin is aware that she’s taken way too long to answer such a simple, breezy question. She gets caught in how awkward she feels, how much she wishes Byulyi wasn’t asking her.

“Hurry up!” Sujeong calls from some other place in the house. With the look in Byulyi’s eyes it feels like the decision has been made for her.

-

The weather is still unbearably hot, sticking the cotton of her shirt to the back of her neck with sweat. She winces when she feels how sweat just rolls off her. Byulyi, in her short hair and t-shirt, looks every bit cool and unbothered. Sujeong walks in step with her, Hyejin pushed behind them. They just started their trip and Hyejin is already tired and ready to go home.

They walk down the bustling streets of the shopping district. Hyejin overhears the conversation between her sister and her friend. She can tell it is the other girl’s first time in the area, asking simple questions, looking carefully at every little thing they pass. Hyejin slows her steps, is satisfied when the gap between them broadens. She spaces out for the most part, but catches moments in accidental refocus. Sujeong and Byulyi walk closer to each other, Hyejin’s look lingers on their joint arms, their giggling smiles.

She wonders why she’s not enjoying this. 

Hyejin spends most of their trip sulking. Trudging in the back and wanting to go home.

Eventually the sun begins to set, the long summer day doing nothing more than adding to Hyejin’s irritation. They stop by a food stall, the grill sizzling as the old lady fills it with meat, fried cakes, and rice. Hyejin watches as the smoke plumes up overhead, curling languidly over them. 

Sujeong asks her if she wants anything. But Hyejin realizes she’s not hungry even after the long day. There’s just a sour, bitter taste in her mouth that she can’t figure out. She shakes her head and shuffles away from the crowd, looking hard at the sidewalk, scuffing the toe of her sneaker against the concrete.

“Here,” she can smell the food before she even looks up.

Byulyi looks at her, again kindly, completely unaware, she holds a small paper container of food, laddled to the top with meat and rice.

Sujeong is still by the stall waiting for the rest of their food. Hyejin reaches for it slowly, realizing how stupid she must look just staring at the other girl, rudely ignoring her.

Byulyi grins at her. Hyejin gets distracted by it. Her fingers blindly grab for the paper bowl. Their fingers touch again and this time Hyejin has to will herself not to pull away completely, not to let the bowl fall between them.

This time there’s something curling in the lowest part of her stomach. A slow unfurl, like the smoke over them. Like clouds in a summer storm breaking away. 

Sujeong calls for Byulyi and she looks away.

Hyejin watches her then, looks at her with intent. Byulyi’s profile is presented to her, the sloping of her dainty nose, the swooping curve of her lashes. The way her short hair curls around her ears, glinting as the lights of the stall turn brighter with the setting sun.

Hyejin holds on tighter to her bowl of food, and she realizes this might be a problem.

-

Days pass and Hyejin finds herself quietly waiting the return of fall. She packs her things as the time to go home looms over her. She misses her mom and dad, misses Wheein, misses the quietness. 

Sujeong takes her places and more times than not Byulyi tags along. 

She realizes that it’s Byulyi’s first time in the city, watching from afar the excitement in her eyes when they go to tourist attractions. Hyejin attempts to keep her distance, unsure how to act after that one day.

She’s careful not to touch the other girl, careful not to do anything to incite a smile from the other. She tries so desperately not to feel what she felt that day.

It's unpleasant and it leaves her frustrated. She's not sure what it is but she hates it.

So they do these little trips whenever Sujeong has time and Byulyi always asks her if she wants to join and no matter how many times she practices saying no she ends up dragging behind them.

She averts her gaze when Byulyi talks to her. Answers in polite, clipped sentences.

It's doable.

Whatever it is Hyejin is trying to do.

She must be doing a well enough job at it if Sujeong hasn’t scolded her about it. It’s like nothing is wrong and Hyejin wonders if she’s really this great of an actress.

-

She wakes up on the day of her birthday feeling...nothing. 

When she walks down to the small living room, there’s no one there. The clock in the kitchen ticks on pass 12 in the afternoon. Sujeong is at work and Hyejin decides to get a bowl of cereal for lunch.

Hyejin is 18 today. And she tries to tell herself she isn’t disappointed at the lack of celebrations. She had asked for this, didn’t want a big fuss. She’s not a little kid anymore, she tells herself, she doesn’t need balloons or cake or gifts.

Wheein sends her cute birthday themed stickers, leaves her a voice memo of her singing the happy birthday song for her.

_Hyejinnie ah, happy birthday!_

_When you come back let’s celebrate!_

She’s giggling, Hyejin laughs too when she listens to it.

She’s going home tomorrow morning, Hyejin takes her bowl of cereal back up to her room, kicking open the suitcase she dragged out of the main hallway closet.

It’s a perfectly mundane day. Hyejin spends the day packing slowly, texting Wheein back. She takes a shower when she’s done, dries her hair with Sujeong’s blow dryer.

Over the roar of the hot air she hears the door open. The sun is setting, Sujeong calling for her, “Hyejin I’m home!”

She turns off the blow dryer, leaves the lights of the bathroom on as she steps quickly towards the kitchen.

Sujeong turns the stove on as Hyejin enters the kitchen. She can already smell the food Sujeong has brought from Hyejin’s favorite restaurant.

She wants to say something. Wants to tell Sujeong she didn’t have to do anything. But she’s oddly touched, feels the odd feeling of pressure in her throat, emotional.

“I’ll make some rice and side dishes,” Sujeong turns to smile at her, looking down at what Hyejin is wearing.

Hyejin looks down at herself, at her stretched out t-shirt, her thin cotton pajamas pants.

“What?” Hyejin asks, taking a step closer to the bags of take out on the counter.

“Nice birthday outfit,” Sujeong laughs.

“It’s not like we’re going out,” Hyejin makes a face, pulling out a sealed bowl of seafood stew. 

“Well either way,” Sujeong places a pan on the stove, “happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” Hyejin tries to sound sulky but the way that Sujeong smiles at her proves she didn’t do such a great job at it. Sujeong’s phone rings.

She listens as Sujeong answers happily, puts it close to Hyejin’s ear so she can hear their mom.

_I tried to call Hyejinnie but she didn’t answer._

-

Her room is dark by the time she hangs up. Sujeong’s phone battery drained. She feels silly for missing her mom and dad. Especially when she’s going home in the morning. But hearing them both wish her a happy birthday, telling her about their days. It’s a weird feeling.

When she enters the living room Sujeong is taking plates a bowls of food away from the kitchen. She stops in her tracks and beckons to the back, “let’s have dinner outside,” she says.

There’s mosquitoes bumping along the balcony’s lanterns. The night rings quietly with the sound of crickets, the loud sound of traffic below them. Sujeong has set up their table with food, cushions placed along the table.

Hyejin sits as Sujeong places the last plates on the table, sitting across from her. They start to eat slowly, Hyejin piling her plate high with her favorites. She smiles at Sujeong thankfully, pleased that she gets to eat all she wants.

The doorbell rings after a couple of minutes. Sujeong gets up without saying anything, still chewing her last bite of food. She’s not really sure what she’s expecting. She doesn’t really think anything of it, instead just keeps eating, trying to figure out what she wants to eat next.

“Happy birthday, Hyejin-ah.”

Hyejin looks up, knows already who it is from the low voice, the kindness that edges onto softness. She watches Byulyi cross over the door’s threshold, already smiling at her even she’s only halfway to her.

Byulyi sits across from her, where Sujeong was sitting before. It’s better than having her sit next to her, she decides, when Sujeong drops down in the empty spot to her left and their shoulders bump. It’s a tight squeeze now and it makes it hard for her to breathe. She tries to inhale quietly, shuddering when a warm breeze picks up.

“I got you something,” Byulyi says after she settles down, pulling out a small gift bag, a glossy red finish shining under the flickering lamps.

“Oh no, thank you,” Hyejin shakes her head, her cheeks oddly flushing, “you don’t have to get me anything.”

“It’s ok,” Byulyi’s smile widens, “it’s something small, you shouldn’t feel bad about it.”

Hyejin’s gaze flickers to her sister, who shrugs at her as she reaches for a bottle of soda across the table. Finding no help out of her sister, she reaches for the bag slowly, fingers looping over the corded handles.

“Thank you,” she whispers, bowing as best she can while sitting.

Byulyi keeps her eyes on her, silently prodding her to open it. 

“It’s not a lot,” Byulyi says again, when Hyejin opens it and pulls out a small black paper jewelry box, “just something from the stalls.”

Hyejin opens the box, watches as the simple band of a ring rattles with it. It’s gold, too shiny to be worth much. There’s nothing spectacular about it. Just a simple band.

“They had an engraving machine,” Byulyi says, “so I asked for your birthday on the inside.”

She lifts it up, turns it so she can see the inside and looks at the the row of neat numbers, _950723._

It feels too intimate. Such a cheap last minute gift.

She tries to smile back, but it feels weak even to her.

“Thank you,” she says again.

The plates have been emptied, stacked in the middle as everything is finished. The night has gotten cooler, wispy clouds, weaving between the few barely visible stars.

Sujeong picks up the plates in an easy swoop, leaving them behind in the quiet.

It’s been hours of listening to the other two talking, conversations about their last high school days, laughing at old jokes they had. Sujeong tries to get her to join, and she does, in limited sentences, jokes that are too obvious for her not to make.

It’s almost midnight and she should really go to bed, has to catch the train back home.

She freezes when Byulyi gets up, walks around their table and sits next to her. She can hear the water of the sink running, the sound of dishes being washed.

“You should go to sleep,” Byulyi says, looking at her phone, “you’re leaving tomorrow right?”

Hyejin nods, stiff.

“It’s your last year in that school,” Byulyi states, “you should really make the most out of it.”

“I’ll try my best,” Hyejin says. 

There’s not really much she wants to do after school. The idea of going to a university isn’t necessarily appealing to her. She doesn’t have a lot of interests.

The harsh white light floods over them, the silver of Byulyi’s hair glints too brightly.

She wills herself to finally make eye contact with the other. She’s still surprised when she meets Byulyi’s stare. It’s not intimidating or uncomfortable but something else she just can’t understand.

They’re close, Hyejin realizes, her heart starts to beat erratically, her palms start to sweat. It’s that same feeling again, a searing against her chest, aching deep in her stomach. A strange, foreign feeling.

She leans forward, feels like it’s the only logical step. Byulyi’s eyes flicker at the movement, expression changing, confused for a fraction of a second.

Hyejin panics, wants to pull back, but Byulyi seems to understand something she doesn’t.

“You’ll do fine,” Byulyi grins reaches a hand to ruffle her hair playfully, and then drops a kiss to the curve of her hair line. 

It reminds her of her mother, in the mornings when she used to send her off to school. When Hyejin would be sad or hurt and wanted to be reassured. Like when she felt so unbearably small and vulnerable and wanted her mom to hold her and cradle her to sleep.

“Thank you,” she whispers again, for the third time that night.

She gets up and turns away.

It’s quiet by the time she finally lets herself lay down. She had heard Byulyi leave, front door closing.

Hyejin had held her breath when Sujeong had passed by her door. 

Now she lays still, the time on her phone passing her by. The strange feeling in her stomach, spreading to her chest. It has been so familiar but hard to name, just a half step away from her to catch on.

As she lays down, her hand rises to touch where Byulyi had kissed her, at the side of her temple, ever so tenderly and reassuring.

The intensity of those feelings, eating at her, uncomfortably bright and burning. Hyejin realizes just how she feels about the other girl, how much she likes her.

It’s a good thing she’ll never see her again.

-

It’s been a couple of months since school has started. The summer has turned into the brisk early mornings Hyejin finds herself walking through.

She waits for the bus in the cold, jacket covering her uniform skirt halfway.

Wheein stands next to her, hands deep in the pockets of her own coat, shivering.

The crowd of students walking to school pass them by, hurrying to not be late. 

Eventually the bus picks them up, halfway full with sleepy commuters. 

They’ve been doing this for months now. Hyejin sits with the side of her head against the window, holding on to her bookbag as the bus rattles away from the stop.

The commute to the city is lengthy, about two hours. They’ll take the bus to the train station and go from there. But she’s gotten used to it, falling asleep during the journey, waking up right before their final stop.

Wheein follows her easily, eager to do anything outside of their boring lives, listless hours spent in school. 

The restlessness of the subway platform no longer fazes her, she stares blankly at the train schedule, unfocused, waiting.

They’ve been doing this for months. Hyejin has lost the glamour of it, the excitement of it. With every try out, audition, song she sings, it becomes boring.

Disheartening. If she’s honest with herself.

No calls back, no contract signings.

Wheein falls asleep once they find a seat in the subway cart.

Hyejin keeps her eyes open, set on not missing their stop. 

Wheein’s been lucky. Hyejin’s eyes flicker to the side, the blurry outline of Wheein’s profile in her view. 

She’s gotten offers, interest. 

She’s aware she’s not the ideal. 

Her skin is a shade too dark. Her eyes too small, her expression too mature. She’s a couple of pounds over dainty, the antithesis of an idol. 

They get above ground, the late morning streets already crowded. There’s an audition they’re meant to go to. Hyejin turns to face Wheein, struggling to fix her bookbag straps.

“Let’s not go,” she says, grinning, “let’s do something fun instead.”

-

She’s alone. 

Winter has come early, breath curling away from her, reaching the spotted sky. She sits by herself under a restaurant tent. Uses the last of her change for some hot food, sizzling pieces of meat loaded into thin paper plates.

She’s far away from the the crowds, near an emptying side street. The people in the tent with her are few, two girls sharing drinks, an older man looking tired and worn down by the day.

The sound of grilling meat fills the air alongside the white static noise of the night. Wheein had stayed home, one of the rare moments where she behaves like her grandmother always wants her to. Hyejin gets out too easily. Spoiled and charming, it’s no wonder why she’s so far from home now.

She looks up from her plate, a random movement. Her gaze freezes at the person walking by the remote set up. Their hair is longer, a dark brown, an awkward length cutting off at her mid neck.

“Hyejin-ah,” she calls for her, smiling as she walks closer to her, hovering by the empty chair across from her, “I didn’t know you were visiting Sujeong again.”

Byulyi sits without asking, pulling the chair out with a screeching sound, running a hand through her hair, musing it up. Hyejin stares at the way her long fingers break up the strands, how her hand drops to the table, fingers splayed against the smooth surface.

“Would you like some?” Hyejin offers, pushing her plate towards the other, giving an apologetic smile as she offers her used chopsticks as well.

Byulyi laughs, small and still kind, as she pushes the plate back, instead raises her hand to get the attention of the waitress. Hyejin tries not to sulk, furiously trying to keep her face neutral, mentally berating herself at this feeling coming out of nowhere. She’s not sure what she’s upset about. That Byulyi didn’t want to share her used chopsticks? Even she knows that's unsanitary and unnecessary. 

Byulyi gets her own plate and utensils, tapping her chopsticks against the paper plate, “what are you doing all alone?”

Hyejin stops chewing at the question, she knows this was going to be her first question. She shrugs, swallows.

Byulyi looks at her for a second, eyes searching. She smiles, because that’s all she seems to do. A smile that rubs Hyejin the wrong way. Sweet and caring and just a little bordering on condescending. Not enough for it to be there but enough for Hyejin to see it.

“I’ll take you home to Sujeong,” she says, grabbing meat from her plate, “so she doesn’t worry about you.”

Hyejin doesn’t want to go home, Sujeong doesn’t even know she’s in the city. She stops what she’s doing, leans forward on her stool.

“I don’t want to go home,” she says, she can hear the pout threatening to form, used to acting like this. Getting her way.

Byulyi blinks at her, eyes questioning.

“Sujeong unnie doesn’t know I’m here,” Hyejin admits, “I only came here because I was bored.”

Byulyi sighs, “you shouldn’t be alone out here,” she taps her fingers along the table, “you’re too young to be doing these kinds of things.”

Hyejin stares at her hands, distracting her from the words. She knows she’s being scolded. She’s used to being told off. But hearing these kind of words in that kind of tone keeps her mood souring. 

And yet.

And yet her stomach flutters. Hundreds and hundreds of moths trying to escape her and go to the glowing light from the lanterns pouring over Byulyi. The skin of her palms itching with how worried, concerned Byulyi sounds about her. Attention on her.

“Young people these days are so reckless,” Byulyi teases, stern voice edging away. Hyejin’s eyes snap back at her. She must have looked like she was sulking (she was) and she hates herself for showing just how right Byulyi is with her joke. 

Hyejin is young and haphazardly taking her days one at time. And that means Byulyi smiles at her like she’s too beneath her. It means Byulyi pats her head like a pet and gives her cheap metal rings on her birthday like they don’t and never will mean a thing. 

“I’ll take you to the train,” Byulyi offers but Hyejin hears how it’s more like a definite statement, informing her more than anything.

She gets up without much of a fight, pulling her coat closer to her as they step away from the crowd and the light.

The streets are pretty deserted. It won’t be a while before they get closer to the major part of the city. The night is dark, an inkiness that spooks her, sends shivers down her arms. 

Byulyi walks next to her, hair ruffling when a late night breeze picks up. Her heart picks up, a stuttering mess as her eyes turn and catch the soft curve of Byulyi’s lower lip. It’s suddenly hard to breathe and it feels like her body is a second away from giving up on her. Byulyi turns to look at her, mouth opening to say, ask, something.

Hyejin stops walking, she reaches for Byulyi’s opened coat, pulls her down just a bit.

She kisses her. Close mouthed and hard, more of a knock between both their mouths and it sets her skin on fire, her heart vibrating, breath gone.

It’s a second at most, it feels like a lifetime. It feels like Hyejin spends years and years pressing her mouth dumbly against the older girl’s, eyes screwed tightly shut, breath catching in her throat.

Byulyi pushes her away, Hyejin stumbles back, goosebumps rising up her arms under her coat.

She steadies herself, watches as Byulyi touches the tips of her fingers to her mouth, wiping furiously when their eyes meet.

“Hyejin, no,” she frowns, voice strangely tight, “you…” she pauses, face changing into an expression Hyejin can’t understand, “you can’t go kissing people like me,” she takes a step back, “you should be doing this with someone your age.”

They hear the tires of a car rolling against the street from far away.

“You should only kiss people you like,” Byulyi tries again.

Hyejin doesn’t say anything. Her voice leaves her and the pressure building behind her ears is embarrassing. She’ll die if she talks and her voice breaks.

Byulyi’s eyes are still on her and Hyejin can’t bring herself to look at anything but the way her white sneakers are scuffed and dirtied, and then at the shiny leather of Byulyi’s loafers, ankles bared under her rolled up jeans.

Byulyi starts to walk away, slowly, something Hyejin understands means to follow her. 

Their walk to the train station is silent, awkwardly suffocating. Byulyi hadn’t given her time to say anything. Instead she had undone everything inside Hyejin with a wipe of her mouth, the grimace on her face. 

Byulyi turns to look at her for one last time, the bright lights of the station washes her out, skin pale under the blistering white. Her hand lands heavily on Hyejin’s head, Byulyi rustles her a bit, tries to shoehorn a feeling of easiness and familiarity.

“Stop trying to grow up so fast.”

_You shouldn’t have kissed me._

“I care about you like a sister.”

_I don’t like you._

It’s clear and calculated and it pierces right through Hyejin’s heart.

She nods, holding on to the ticket Byulyi had insisted on paying, eager to send her away.

She sits herself in the mostly empty train cart, the stops flying by pass her. The prickling of tears sting the corners of her eyes.

But Hyejin swears she’ll never cry over a girl, over Byulyi ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i said i was going to post this before the year was over so im going to try to keep to my word!
> 
> ~~also like i said this one is similar to the wind flower hwabyul fic i previously wrote so maybe you can figure out what kind of au this will be and what will happen next lol if anyone is even invested idk im trying ok~~
> 
> find me/talk to me about this fic, me being a terrible procrastinator and fic writer or other fics or give me ideas/prompts/talk to me in general (if you wanna) on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/gIoomly) / [cc](https://curiouscat.me/gIoomly)
> 
> also if you are able to/feeling generous or would like to leave something ~~(im also open to commissions if thats a thing you maybe want??)~~ here is my [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/gloomly)  
> but of course you dont have to ｡◠‿◠｡
> 
> also please stream [wind flower !!!!!!!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uOZ2r_UAfdc)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyejin knows, that when, if, they debut Yongsun would be the natural leader. Can’t help but think about how easily she has fallen under her lead, how much she’s put in Yongsun’s hands. She wonders if Yongsun wants it, wants it as much as she does. Wonders if Yongsun has given it all up for this one half hope.
> 
> She turns to look at the older girl again, opens her mouth in a question that gets stuck inside her throat.
> 
> _Can I trust you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have an update, sorry in advance (ꈍᴗꈍ)

Hyejin is only made out of skin and bones. And she knows she’s not exactly what others find attractive. She’s a shade too dark, a bit too short. She carries more weight than she should and her face is anything but conventional. 

She hears the snide remarks behind her back, sees the looks they throw her way. But she can ignore them most of the time. It’s when she goes to an audition, among the many snow white pretty girls that she can’t help herself. She sings the best she can, puts as much emotion and effort to the words she’s memorized, repeated to herself over and over again.

And then she stands in front of the panel and all she can do is nod at their grievances.  _ Not tall enough, too fat. _ They like what she brings with her voice, expressions, but offer her solutions,  _ surgery, diets, complete image change. _

She says no and they say no back.

She spends evenings after these auditions in her room, crying quietly at herself, hating the way she looks, wishing she was born someone completely new and different.

Everyone else in school is busy with exams, colleges and universities. Wheein smiles giddily at her at the new company who has agreed to picked her up. Hyejin suppresses her envy when she hears the girl group under the company, remembers she was just listening to one of their songs the other day.

Hyejin doesn’t have any of this. She doesn’t care enough to study, she can’t get signed. 

Summer comes quickly. Wheein moves out to the city to begin her life as a trainee and Hyejin stays back, spending lonely scorching hot days in her own self hating, wallowing.

Hyejin sits in her dark room, listening to the sounds of her mother making dinner, cleaning before her father comes home. She reaches for her phone and switches on music she’s downloaded, volume low, only for her to listen to.

In these stretching moments she thinks about Byulyi. She thinks about that winter night months ago. Sometimes when she’s trying to sleep she tries to make herself believe she can still feel the phantom press of Byulyi’s lips against her own.

But it’s all wistful thinking and it’s an opening wound she still flinches about when she thinks about it. The shove have been nothing, the hardness of her words have been more than she could handle.

-

WA Entertainment is not impressive. Hyejin hasn’t really heard of it. But they’re holding an audition and she thinks a company so small can’t be that high risk.

When it’s her turn she feels the way nerves begin to run down her. A shivering warmness that makes her shudder. Her make up feels too bare now, she can just see how glossy her face must look under the lights. There’s three people sitting across from her, clipboards in hand, looking at her expectantly.

She swallows, it catches at her throat, she feels like if she opens her mouth her heart would leap right out of her. She introduces herself with a shaky voice, clearing her throat when her voice strains out. She can feel herself blushing and it only makes her more nervous.

They discuss her vocals, more than anything. They make a passing judgement about her weight, but it’s such a passing comment that Hyejin can’t help but feel there’s more unsaid. She goes home after that, falls asleep on the train back home. Unsure of what this audition will bring for her.

When she gets home no one asks her about it. No one really knows where she went. The house is empty, her mom and dad both still at work. Hyejin makes herself something to eat, distractedly frying up rice and leftovers, listening to the sizzle of the pan, the summer breeze. She’ll be alone for a couple of hours. She’ll most likely sleep them off, maybe watch a movie from the small number of dvds they have scattered around.

The nervousness, excitement of the audition has gone and all she has left is the same droning boredom she’s spent her summer under. 

She eats slowly, sitting on the floor of the empty living room. The day drags on, the sun outside still shining bright even as the hours pass by.

Hyejin gets up to bring over some blankets and pillows, forming a nest for her to lay on the floor. She’s falling asleep and the cool living room floor seems a lot more appealing then going back to her stuffy room.

She stretches out, until her knees pop, shoulders rolling back. She curls into herself, on her side, away from the streaming sun. Her eyes close and she falls asleep.

It’s days later. The sun still hesitant to go down, crisp mornings and breezy dusk hours. 

Hyejin is in bed, listening to the sounds of white noise, the buzzing chirp of grasshoppers roaming underneath the lights of fireflies. She’s half asleep, as the sleepy slow summer keeps her under its spell. Her heart skips a beat, nerves prickling when her phone begins to ring. She rolls around, feels around at her bedside drawer, frowning when it keeps ringing and her hand finds no purchase. She shifts and feels the hard plastic of her phone digging at the small of her back, painful but dull. Hyejin sits up, mouth dry, eyes hurting. She doesn’t really look at the number as she slides her phone open, pressing it close to her ear.

_ It’s this Ahn Hyejin-ssi? _

The voice isn’t one she knows but she’s still disoriented with sleep when she answers.   


“Yes, this is me,” she says, voice slurring.

_ This is WA Entertainment. We are calling because you made it to the next round of our training program. _

Hyejin feels how her fingers go lax, almost dropping her phone. Her brain scrambles to wake up completely, then to make any sense on the sentence she’s just heard. Her silence must sound like an answer as the lady continues to speak.

_ If you are still interested we will like for you to take part of our program. This means you will have to be available for daily practices and training. _

Hyejin blinks quickly, clearing her throat as she finally attempts to speak.

“Training?” she asks, slowly.

_ Yes, our training program requires day long daily training in order to ensure the best possible outcome. _

It excites her, she realizes, heart beating rapidly, a break from the monotonous life she’s been living the entirety of the summer. An adventure, finally something she thinks she would want to do, maybe a step closer to reaching a dream.

“Ok,” she whispers, but she knows the other hears her.

-

She walks through Sujeong’s apartment in some sort of trance. The carpet and tiled floor are dingier, dirtier than the last summer she was there. 

Her dad walks through the door, box of Hyejin’s clothes in his arm.

Sujeong smiles as she helps him, placing it on the low table on the living room. 

“It’ll do you how it did me,” Sujeong says, turning her smile at her, not one bit bitter. Hyejin feels it again, the feeling she’s been pushing down since the morning they had driven up to the city.

Hyejin looks at her bare feet, curling over the warm floor. 

Sujeong is leaving behind the small amount of dishes, the minimal furniture, the bed Hyejin had slept on one summer ago. 

“You do your job here,” Sujeong pulls her away from her thoughts, “and I’ll do my job helping mom and dad.”

Hyejin nods, braving on a smile. But she knows her eyes are glazing over. Tears gathering dangerously at the corner of her eyes, threatening to fall.

Her dad walks up to her, face sad, crumbling but mouth still turned up. He hugs her and she can’t help it. Her tears are hot, quickly falling from her eyelashes in slow languishing runs down her cheeks.

She’s embarrassed but most of all she’s sad.

Hyejin holds on tighter to her dad, asking him for a bit more time. But they have to get back home and Sujeong has to fill in Hyejin’s bedroom with her own things.

She’s hiccuping when they leave her. Promise to call her when they get home.

Hyejin turns to look at the small apartment and cries again.

-

The first day of her training she’s paired up with another girl. Her name is Kim Yongsun and she’s everything Hyejin wishes she was. They bow at each other, exchange greetings. The person who had brought Hyejin into the practice room informs her that Yongsun is her training partner until further notice. 

Hyejin listens as she explains the set up. Yongsun and her are Team A, a possible singing duo if all things go right, if they pass all their evaluations and benchmarks.

Hyejin turns to look at the other girl, her face is as round as hers but her body is much slimmer, naturally smaller than Hyejin. Her eyes must trail over the other too slowly, too judging, Yongsun shrinks into herself, crossing her arms over her chest.

Their vocal trainer leaves them with instructions to get familiar, giving them a bit of time before their vocal lessons start. The door closes and Hyejin levels her stare at the other girl again. She feels silly when she realizes how shy she’s feeling, unable to say anything now that they’re alone.

Kim Yongsun ducks her head awkwardly, a half bow, half nod, “I’m Kim Yongsun,” she repeats her greeting. Hyejin takes note of the dips of her voice, naturally rising in falling, a bit like a song.

“Nice to meet you,” she bows deeply, used to the natural politeness instilled by her family, “I’m Ahn Hyejin.”

Another beat of silence and Hyejin almost sighs in relief when Yongsun talks again.

“I’m from 91,” she says, pointing at herself, expression waiting for Hyejin to answer.

“95,” Hyejin answers quickly, bowing again, “you’re an unnie.”

Yongsun raises her hands at the gesture, her laugh spilling over. It’s loud and abrupt and it makes Hyejin smile.

“You’re really polite,” Yongsun laughs, bowing again to mirror Hyejin.

“Sorry,” Hyejin apologizes, and Yongsun laughs again, nervous and unapologetically bright.

Hyejin really likes it.

-

They meet in the mornings, shuffling into the practice rooms, throats still raw and aching from hours of scales, repeating over and over notes too high for them, lines from their practice songs. Yongsun comes in with her swollen face, slicked back hair. Hyejin with her eyes still half closed from her quick naps on the bus. 

Their coach runs over the same parts, over-analyzes the way they harmonize, how Hyejin’s voice gets breathy too quickly, how Yongsun strains when trying to hit her high notes. 

Hyejin sings until her eyes begin to droop with her tiredness, until Yongsun’s voice catches painfully in her throat, dry and raspy and unpleasant. 

Their days are like this, never out of routine, they start to merge together, into one never ending cycle of vocal practice and dancing lessons. Hyejin’s body begins to ache and her appetite begins to waver with the long hours she puts in. The long tiring days mean she doesn’t have much time for anything besides singing and dancing. She loses weight with the constant moving, the long hours doing dance moves that are too hard for her to do properly but never giving up. Her face begins to thin out, her stomach is still soft but so much flatter. She looks at her mirror after she takes a shower and she sees the curves that were hiding under her weight. Her thighs don’t slim down like the rest of her, they round off and Hyejin wonders if she should start running.

Her eyes wander to Yongsun, notices her body has thinned out too, not as full as Hyejin, the lines of her body straighter, like the ideal types of so many boys, the body of an idol. 

Yongsun sighs as they rest on the floor. It’s late at night and Hyejin winces as her calves burn with the simple choreography they’ve been trying to learn for their first evaluation. The hardwood floor is cold where her pants ride up her legs, she shivers.

“Just a couple of more days,” Yongsun says, voice soft, hard to come out, “then hopefully training will let up a little bit.”

Hyejin doesn’t think it will but she nods, grateful that Yongsun is trying to soothe the ache of their days.

“Drink some tea and honey when you get home, unnie,” Hyejin says, making a face when Yongsun clears her throat. Hyejin realizes it sounds too caring, doesn’t like it, she looks away as she adds, “you have to sing in a couple of days.”

“Of course Hyejin-ah,” Yongsun answers quick enough, even if Hyejin doesn’t look at her she can hear the smile, always silly and bubbly.

-

It’s getting harder and harder as the days go by. Hyejin sits in her empty room, thinking of her next rent payment. When she had moved out she had take what she had saved from odd jobs and allowances to help with the bills. WA Entertainment can’t offer her a dorm and soon Hyejin realizes just how small and new the company really is. She’s one of the few trainees and she’s still not sure why. She remembers seeing other girls auditioning, girls who definitely fit the idol look a lot better than her. She learns that for the most part the company makes money out of composing and recording. Sometimes when she walks through the hallways she sees other trainees from other companies that are being briefly trained by WA. But Hyejin isn’t allowed to interact with them and they don’t pay her any mind. 

Instead she spends her days with Yongsun, straining their voices and starts to learn how to properly dance like an idol not just the silly dances she’s done with Wheein.

But as her days get busier with the upcoming evaluation her income becomes a bigger problem. She’s not exactly getting paid to sing in empty practice rooms. When Sujeong had rented the apartment it had been easier for her to keep because she had a job. With Hyejin making no income the rooftop apartment is proving to be harder and harder to keep. Hyejin doesn’t want her parents to give up more for her, she keeps it quiet when they call her and ask her about her days, ask her if she needs them to send her anything. She always says no. 

One day, as if a miracle, their vocal coach approaches her, Yongsun taking a bathroom break. She must look rough, must be letting on more than she thinks as she whispers to her, “Would you like to earn some extra money recording vocal guides?”

Hyejin nods, probably a bit too quickly, any money is good money at this point.

She records guides for girl groups she grew up listening to in order to try to keep going. She scrapes by. Hyejin watches the warm days turn icy. Her small apartment has a working heater and keeps her warm. She’s busy, doing something. It feels like it’s all small things but she feels blessed.

-

It’s finally, finally the day of their evaluation. 

Hyejin is dressed in a matching outfit with Yongsun, simple black pants and white t-shirts. As they enter the evaluation room Hyejin finally gets a look at Team B. 

The four girls next to them are beautiful. They obviously have what she lacks. They’re tall, thin, fresh faced. She gets nervous, throat dry. She shuffles up closer when they call them up, eyes expectant as they ask them to introduce themselves. She faintly hears Yongsun introduce them as Team A, then herself, before turning to look at Hyejin.

-

Hyejin leans against the wall of the empty hallway. It’s quiet, the lights a warm yellow. Her heart has slowed down and she feels like she can breathe again. She thinks about the evaluation, the comments and concerns they had thrown at her. They had liked their vocals, their team work. 

_ But you need to lose a little more weight. You need to work on a brighter image.  _

All grievances she had heard before but still a bit hard to take. She sighs, slumping back. Her eyes shift when she hears footsteps, coming closer to her.

Yongsun appears from around the corner, in her matching outfit, eyes bright.

“Hyejin-ah,” she says, voice giddy, “we did better than the others.”

She sounds excited, happy, proud. Hyejin had squashed those feelings when she had heard their praise afterwards. 

_ Promising vocals, great stage presence, improved dancing.  _

“We scored higher than them!” Yongsun exclaims, loudly in the silent hallway.

“I know unnie,” Hyejin says, quietly.

They’ve made it one more step, one more day as trainees. Closer to debut. Hyejin looks at Yongsun, she’s talking about what they had told her when she had shuffled up closer to ask, but it’s all muffled in her ears.

Hyejin realizes then that her and Yongsun will be together for a long while. Through the struggles of training, through the possible turbulent years of debut, hopefully through the long years as established artists. Hyejin refocuses, eyes stuck on the soft, lax smile resting at ease on Yongsun’s lips.

“Unnie,” she interrupts, eyes flickering to their feet, “you live alone, right?”

Yongsun stops her chattering, nods, eyes confused.

“It’s embarrassing to say,” Hyejin flushes with shame, “but it’s getting hard for me to pay rent...I was wondering if it was the same for you.”

She thinks maybe Yongsun gets enough of her with their long hours in their practice rooms, maybe trying to ask is stupid, maybe Yongsun really doesn’t want to keep spending so much time with a kid like her.

Yongsun takes a while to answer, as if trying to figure out the right way to let Hyejin off easily, “a little bit, yeah,” she says instead.

Hyejin can’t really bring herself to say it, they stand in an awkward silence, Hyejin’s blush darkening.

Then Yongsun smiles at her again, nervous giggle escaping her, “let’s move in together!” she says voice rushing in her excitement, “I mean,” she tacks on, “we’re going to be spending a lot of time together anyway. It’ll be easier this way.”

“Ok, unnie,” Hyejin says, relieved, “ok let's move in together.”

-

Yongsun moves in when autumn officially bleeds into winter and the night air stings too unforgivingly. 

Hyejin watches as Yongsun brings up the last of her boxes, four small ones, sealed with masking tape.

“I’m here,” Yongsun says, unnecessarily. 

Hyejin laughs anyway.

Yongsun makes some rice and fries whatever Hyejin has in the refrigerator. 

It’s the first time in a long time that anyone has cooked a meal for her and it warms her stomach nicely, a pleasant burn against her chest.

Yongsun talks about their practice, what their vocal coach had said to them, about the colder weather, about what food she really wishes she could eat. But she’s on a diet and she can’t afford to gain any more weight.

Hyejin nods along, picking up grains of rice with her chopsticks, dropping them into her mouth absentmindedly.

They wash the dishes and push the table away and by the time Hyejin is in her bed, her back aches and her feet hurt. She can hear Yongsun shuffling outside, in her own makeshift bed on the couch Sujeong had left behind.

She falls asleep trying to hear if Yongsun has finally settled down.

-

The steam from the sweet potato drifts up, the soft white contrasting with the dark sky.

Yongsun leans over the railing, one hand curling over the cold metal, the other holding her own wrapped up sweet potato. 

The steam of it burns Hyejin’s mouth when she bites it, sending shivers as the roof of her tongue singes with the heat of it.

“I burned my tongue,” Yongsun turns to tell her, voice muffled, already laughing.

Hyejin rolls her eyes fondly, pressing her own tongue to the stinging burn in her own mouth.

It’s cold now, Hyejin thinks, burying her face into the collar of her coat, her cheeks aching with the cold. It’s been a couple of months of her training. 

They’ve pushed through a couple of evaluations. No matter how much she does it, her throat threatens to close up, body shivering with nerves. And Yongsun is always there next to her. Introducing the team, herself, at eased.

Hyejin knows, that when, if, they debut Yongsun would be the natural leader. Can’t help but think about how easily she has fallen under her lead, how much she’s put in Yongsun’s hands. She wonders if Yongsun wants it, wants it as much as she does. Wonders if Yongsun has given it all up for this one half hope.

She turns to look at the older girl again, opens her mouth in a question that gets stuck inside her throat.

_ Can I trust you? _

-

It’s another late night where Hyejin has to fight to keep her eyes open. She leans against the front of the couch, sitting on the floor, table already pulled out by Yongsun.

The television is showing the late night news, news anchor running through the major world events. Her legs hurt, she kicks them out, stretching them out.

She can hear Yongsun in the small kitchen, frying up eggs and rice, the only thing they have to eat. 

“It’s late, we shouldn’t really eat this,” Yongsun says when she finally walks in, placing the bowls of food on the table, smiling, like always.

Hyejin stares at her, eyes still half closed, but heart picking up an erratic speed. Through her tiredness there’s a long forgotten memory. The easy smiles, the pleasant voice, overly polite, bordering suffocating actions. 

Hyejin looks at Yongsun and her brain can only think about  _ Byulyi _ . 

It’s the same kind of smile, the same kind of voice, babying, belittling. Hyejin realizes now what she has been feeling towards Yongsun. The fragile easiness she has been treading on. 

She hasn’t thought about Byulyi in months, too busy, too tired, too afraid to think about her. But Yongsun has been a constant reminder, a lingering feeling about the other girl.

Her cheeks heat up when she remembers their kiss. When she remembers how Byulyi had pushed her away, the last smile she had given her as they had reached the train platform.

She looks down at her bowl, moving the rice around, but her eyes can’t help it, when they shift to look back at Yongsun and she sees that same kind of smile.

It curls unpleasantly under her skin, a pin prick of discomfort, confusion.

They eat in silence, the television playing in the background. Hyejin has a hard time swallowing her food, body tensed at thoughts, the scenes from a year ago.

The news switch on to commercials and Yongsun bobs her head to the tune of jingle, clearly tired but still restless. Hyejin wonders how just similar she is to Byulyi. Yongsun is evervascent, bright, overwhelming.  _ Byulyi _ , Hyejin remembers her laid back posture, her soft, subtle presence. A lazy, suffocating feeling.

“Unnie,” she says, voice catching a bit.

She gets Yongsun’s attention quickly, she stops moving, instead gives that smile again, leaning forward.

“Yes, Hyejin-ah?” she asks eyes focused on her.

“Have you ever kissed someone?” Hyejin asks the question quickly, cheeks reddening with shame.

Hyejin knows Yongsun has. Hyejin knows that with the way Yongsun looks every bit the typical ideal type beauty that she has kissed many boys.

Confusion flickers across her expression for a second, Hyejin sees it and she thinks for a second she won’t answer.

“This is a weird question,” Yongsun says, laughing nervously. She swallows, reaches for her chopsticks.

“Have you unnie?’ Hyejin pushes.

The scrapping of wood against the plastic of the bowl rings loudly, and then Yongsun opens her mouth, “of course I have,” she looks at Hyejin, “have you?”

Hyejin nods without much thought, quickly and trying to not lose her nerve, “only one person.”

Yongsun laughs again, just as nervous as the first time they had met, “makes sense for a baby like you.”

Hyejin frowns at Yongsun, the words give her enough to ask the next question.

“Can I kiss you?”

Yongsun blinks rapidly at the question, expression confused, surprised, uneasy.

“It’ll be weird if I’ve only kiss one person before becoming an idol,” Hyejin reasons, leaning closer, “please?”

Yongsun’s cheeks have started to tint pink, a slow flush that Hyejin notices begins to reach down her neck.

She doesn’t keep urging, because between her rapidly beating heart, vile rising up her throat, she knows Yongsun isn’t going to deny her.

Yongsun leans forward, across the table, waiting for Hyejin to do the same, “This is going to be weird,” Yongsun says.

Hyejin gets on her knees, leans close enough that she feels the words more than she hears them.

Yongsun doesn’t move, doesn’t make it easier and again Hyejin is forcefully reminded of that night, in the cold. How hard she had pressed to Byulyi’s lips, desperate.

So she does the same now, a press between their lips, chaste, nervous, what she knows from experience.

The commercials have faded back into the news and it’s the most mundane thing, Hyejin for some reasons pays more attention to this than the kiss she’s currently sharing with the other girl.

Hyejin pulls away first, sitting back on her knees, looking at Yongsun.

Yongsun smiles at her, clearly more at eased now that it’s over.

“That’s really not what I was expecting,” Yongsun admits, “it was cute.”

“It was a kiss,” Hyejin answers, “it’s not cute.”

Yongsun goes to grab Hyejin’s empty bowl, places it inside her own, “was that really a kiss?”

Hyejin doesn’t say anything to that, just watches as Yongsun brings in the other smaller bowls from their side dishes.

“ _Then you kiss me_ ,” Hyejin nearly snaps, voice sharp.

Yongsun’s eyes snap back up to look at her, hands still holding on to their used dishes.

Hyejin doesn’t look away, keeps her gaze steady, suddenly feeling like she can’t lose, can’t lose one more thing to Yongsun.

“You’re being really weird today,” Yongsun sighs.

Hyejin thinks she’s backed out but Yongsun puts the dishes down, leaning over to reach behind Hyejin’s neck. She’s pulled closer to the other girl, slowly, not tentative but more like a warning.

Eventually Yongsun closes her eyes and Hyejin watches with wide eyes as their lips get closer and closer. When their lips touch it’s the same as the peck they had shared before before she can push away and say as much, Yongsun tilts her head. 

Hyejin feels her breath catch as Yongsun’s mouth melds into hers, lips sliding against hers. It’s something completely new to her, she feels like it’s something she shouldn’t be doing. But still so painfully innocent.

Yongsun pulls away from her after a couple of seconds, Hyejin is thankful, out of breath, frazzled.

“Let’s go to sleep, Hyejin-ah,” Yongsun says, cheery.

-

Hyejin rolls on her side, listening as Yongsun had turned off the television, again settling to sleep. She presses her fingers to her lips, remembering the kiss from just minutes ago. It hadn’t been unpleasant, but it hadn’t made her felt like how Byulyi had. Her body had reacted appropriately, out of breath, skin shivering from the warmth of Yongsun’s mouth. 

Hyejin drops her hand, closes her eyes.

She can’t help thinking back to Byulyi now. Now that she sees all the similarities, the smiles, the tones. But that crude, clumsy peck between them had made her feel a lot more than Yongsun had with her own kiss.

Her mind lingers back to what Yongsun had said about the peck Hyejin had given her.

_ Was that really a kiss? _

Her mood sours when she realizes her kiss with Byulyi could have not been a kiss, could have not been her first kiss like how she had thought and kept to herself. 

When she wakes up, the sun is barely rising and Yongsun knocks on her door, urging her to get up.

Yongsun is dressed when Hyejin steps out of the bedroom, still disgruntled, still tired.

“We have practice, come on,” Yongsun says, a bit stern around the edges. 

Hyejin doesn’t answer, instead goes to the bathroom wordlessly. 

It’s cold when they step out into the winter morning, walking to the bus stop without speaking. Hyejin doesn’t add to Yongsun’s chatter, just listens as they board the bus, sit in the back. The familiar route is grounding, Hyejin takes a deep breath, watches the way the window fogs up with it.

Yongsun calls for the stop and Hyejin shuffles behind her, walking towards the WA building. 

-

They’ve spent the morning attempting dance practice, following simple step and sequences, trying to ease them into more complicated moves.

Around noon their dance instructor lets them break for lunch. Hyejin sits on the floor, leaning against the mirror, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the end of her shirt. 

She goes stiff when Yongsun sits next to her, close enough that their knees bump.

“You’re being weird,” Yongsun says, passing Hyejin a water bottle, “are you tired?”

Hyejin doesn’t answer, doesn’t want to say she’s still thinking about their kisses.

It goes quiet, they hear the steps of other trainees walking through the hallway. Yongsun nudges her to drink. Hyejin opens the bottle slowly, takes a sip.

“It was just a kiss,” Yongsun says, quietly, nervous at the idea of being overheard, “I’m sorry if it was not what you wanted.”

Hyejin shakes her head, hand going to settle on Yongsun’s knee, “You can’t say that,” Hyejin says, looking at the other, “I was the one who asked you.”

Yongsun nods, obviously not sure what else to say or do.

Hyejin leans closer, kisses Yongsun’s cheek, “I just realized how different we are.”

Yongsun smiles at her, surprisingly.

“It’s good that we’re different,” Yongsun reassures her, cheeks blushing faintly, “we can learn a lot from each other.”

Hyejin meets her gaze straight on, smiles right back.

“I’ve already learned a lot from you, unnie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a hwabyul fic with minimal hwabyul??? is any one surprised lol anyway there's actually a draft of this fic where hyejin trains as a solo artists but i decided to rewrite it as a hwasun duo because idk why just felt better?
> 
> find me/talk to me about this fic, hwabyul (please talk to me about hwabyul), mamamoo or other fics or give me ideas/prompts/talk to me in general (if you wanna) on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/gIoomly) / [cc](https://curiouscat.me/gIoomly)
> 
> also if you are able to/feeling generous or would like to leave something ~~(im also open to commissions if thats a thing you maybe want??)~~ here is my [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/gloomly)  
> but of course you dont have to ｡◠‿◠｡
> 
> also please stream [wind flower !!!!!!!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uOZ2r_UAfdc)


End file.
